The Snake and Stave
by SweetProserpina
Summary: “..she noticed the Queen of Hearts, a saucy little wench in a red negligee and a cheap plastic tiara..” Life after the war isn’t what Ginny Weasley expected, but she thought she knew the cards she had been dealt.. D/G- AU, For the 2008 d/g fic exchange.


Title: The Snake and Stave

**Title:** The Snake and Stave  
**Rating:** Definitely Naughty  
**Possible Spoilers/Warnings:** AU  
**Disclaimer:** The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K.Rowling. I am only borrowing it…  
**Beta:** Mikiki (thank you!)  
**Summary:** "Shuffling through her hand, she noticed the Queen of Hearts, a saucy little wench in a red negligee and a cheap plastic tiara." Life after the war isn't what Ginny Weasley expected, but she thought she knew the cards she had been dealt until a risky game at the Snake and Stave changes everything.

**The Snake and Stave**

_The commonest mistake in history is underestimating your opponent; it happens at the poker table all the time. David Shoup_

"Fold." Ginny threw her cards down casually onto the scarred wooden table and sat back to watch the hand play out.

The back room of The Snake and Stave was a familiar place for the youngest Weasley, and she was often found there playing a round or two of wizard's poker with whomever was passing through town. If you had asked Ginny five years ago, in the elation of Voldemort's defeat what her future held she would have painted a very different picture than what reality presented today. She looked around the dingy back room of the pub that smelled of stale alcohol, this was it, her lot in life. She had planned on becoming a Quidditch star, on marrying the famous Harry Potter and settling down into a much quieter life than what she, and everyone had been leading during the war years.

Ginny sighed softly to herself as she watched the others around the table. Years ago Fred and George had taught her that everyone had a tell. Whether it was poker or pranks, every liar spoke the truth one way or another, and for observant Ginny, it was only a matter of time until she spotted the involuntary movement or the held breath, and used them against her opponents. She glanced casually at the two men still playing the hand. One, a big brutish sort smelled of too much Firewhisky and chewed tobacco. It bulged in his right cheek; a line of brown spittle dripped down his chin before he wiped it away with his dirty shirtsleeve and raised the bid. Did he just blink a fraction of a second faster than before? Ginny continued to watch from behind lowered lashes and wait for the next round to begin.

The elation of Voldemort's death had been short lived, as there were many Death Eaters still at large and fear became an everyday undercurrent in Britain's Wizarding World. A recession followed soon afterwards and Ginny, always a bit more enterprising than the majority of her family, had made money where she could. She helped George with the shop by buying and selling on the black market, some restricted items and some not, and made tidy sums at the poker tables. It was plenty to keep her and her family well enough and she was content as she could be with her current life. It wasn't sunshine and Kneazles, but it could have been a heck of a lot worse.

She eyed the other man still in the game; she had already noticed his tell. Dressed in dark blue velvet robes with slick black hair, he tended to grind his oversized teeth when he was bluffing. And he was bluffing now, Ginny noted, watching as his jawbone moved underneath tanned skin. She watched carefully to see which man's nerves were stronger. The wizard in the blue robes met the big man's bid and raised it, grinding his teeth again. The big man folded and threw his cards on the table in disgust and spat on the floor. Ginny wrinkled her nose as the brown spit landed near her shoes. The other man tapped the table with his wand and grinned widely as his pile of chips enlarged. Cocky bugger that one was, she would have to keep her eye on him.

There were two others at the table, another wizard, foreign most likely, and a chubby blonde witch with too much rouge. The witch picked up the deck for a new deal. She dealt quickly, obviously a practiced hand at this despite her Hufflepuff appearance. Ginny picked up her cards from the crude novelty deck they were playing with and sorted through them. The deck was something George might have stocked behind the counter at Wheezes. The face cards were all naughty witches and wizards in varying states of undress. Shuffling through her hand, she noticed the Queen of Hearts, a saucy little wench in a red negligee and a cheap plastic tiara. The lady on the card winked at her and blew her a kiss before she was flipped over and rested face down on the table, Ginny's hand securely over top. She discarded two cards and received two more from the chubby witch, glancing at them casually and placing them on top of the queen. She would play this hand, despite not knowing any tells of the last man at the table. She threw her chips in the middle and the game began.

It had been over a year since she had seen Harry Potter, and over five since she had kissed him good and proper. After the war, a weakened Harry had retreated to a little cottage in Cornwall, living mostly among Muggles and cherishing the anonymity that it gave him. He and Ginny tried for a little while after the war to start things up again but a lot had changed for both of them and they were no longer the young and naïve teens they once had been. She still visited once in a great while though, to see how he was doing and to tell him all the Weasley news. Harry was just a friend now and nothing more. Ginny's love life was next to nothing anyway, boys came and went, and except for that brief delicious affair a couple of years after the war. Her mind clouded at the thought of it and she willed herself to focus on the game. Ginny had become too practical for love. When she did spend the night with a likely bloke she never stayed until morning, preferring to creep away from the anonymous wizard and the anonymous bed before too many memories assailed her. It was frustrating that no one could compete with-

"Oi, Ginger. You playin' or payin' luv?" The big man with the tumbler of Firewhisky barked at her.

She shook herself mentally, they were all waiting for her to fold or add more chips. She gazed quickly to see who was still in: the big man, the chubby blonde and the foreigner. She threw more chips in and relaxed back into her wooden chair as play continued. The big brute folded but the others stayed in. The chubby witch was bluffing and noticeably chewing her pink bottom lip in nervousness, Ginny didn't give her a second thought so she moved her gaze over to the slim wizard who spoke with a soft French accent. Ginny was sure she had never seen him before, but there was something that seemed very familiar about him. Not his looks, for he was rather plain with short brown hair, mud brown eyes and a complexion that bordered on burnt toast, no, it was his mannerisms that struck Ginny. The languid way he sat in his chair, the careful breath and the quick movement his eyes made that told her he noticed everything and everyone and yet said nothing. He made a move and Ginny watched without being noticed as he rested his chin on his raised crooked hand. She saw how his thumb lay upon the pumping vein in his neck, caressing it slowly, without thought.

Her eyes flew down to the scarred wooden table and she tried to control how her heart sped. It had been two years, six months, and five days since she had seen him. Two years, six months, and five days since she had refused to run away with him and leave all of her responsibilities behind. Two years, six months, and five days since she had seen him touch his neck like that to feel the blood pumping through his body to know that he truly lived. She glanced at her own spider web of blue and purple veins that threaded across the underside of her wrist. He had traced them with his finger a thousand times and told her how any day a heart beats was a gift. He had cheated death a hundred times, and the hard lesson it had taught him was the true value of a life and it made the blue blood that flowed through him all the more important.

Ginny gripped her hands underneath the table; she was scared and overjoyed at the same time. He had come back under his own volition, but did he come for her or for another reason? The two of them had argued about their future. Draco had still been under suspicion by the Ministry then, and had also been a likely target for Death Eaters. He had had enough of playing the game and wanted to leave England and start over. He had told her he had a house in Saint Maries-de-le-Mer, somewhere on the coast, where they could go and live in safety. Ginny though, had been stubborn and refused to leave her family. They had already lost too many and knowing the financial hardships they were facing, well she just couldn't leave them, no matter how much she had thought she loved Draco Malfoy.

She glanced up and met his gaze for the first time. She could tell in that one look that he knew she could see through his disguise. He smiled faintly and threw more chips into the pot, looking at the blonde expectantly. Would she call?

The chubby blonde eyed him and gnawed on her lip, finally deciding to fold rather than call or raise, she only had a pair of twos after all. She tapped her pink fingernails on the table and waited for the other two to finish the hand.

Ginny looked across the table at the man she had known and went all in, pushing all her chips into the center. No matter who he was or who he had been, she always played to win. The blonde witch let out a little gasp, glad she had folded when she did. The wizard everyone else at the table supposed to be a foreigner let a small smirk slide across his face. A familiar smirk. That was his girl all right. He stared hard at Ginny for only a moment, taking in every freckle and curve, every ginger hair that had once been spread across his pillow. It may have been two years, six months, and five days since he had seen her but it felt like yesterday to him. All the memories had streamed back into his consciousness since seeing her enter the room earlier that evening, but Draco Malfoy was a man of caution now and preferred to observe first before jumping into something he might regret later. He had forced himself to lay low and sort out his affairs quietly for too long and enough was enough. He was a Malfoy and damn if he was going to live in obscurity –alone- in some grotty French town on the Mediterranean. He was back, and winning over Ginny whatever it took, was his first priority

Draco raised an eyebrow at the red-headed witch across from him. So that was how she was going to play it, was she? He tapped his wand twice beside his pile of chips and straightened up with a slightly arrogant look on his borrowed face.

"Moi aussi." He said, challenging her.

"Are you sure?" She replied, a dozen silent questions dancing in her eyes. Guarded but curious. "You think you can handle that kind of bet now?"

He nodded in response, letting a soft chuckle escape and keeping his eyes on her. He _was_ ready now, unlike years ago when he had ran and hid from the world. "I've been keeping an eye on you tonight, _cheri_. I know I have a chance."

The other players were watching the interplay with interest. This was obviously more than a simple hand of poker, but then most things tended to be. Every person at the table that night was as layered as a cooking onion. Simplicity was for grocers and bookshop owners; but to live as the card players did required a certain level of complexity and cunning to get by.

"You're still a conceited, puffed up prat, aren't you?" Ginny asked, distracting him from play and trying to keep a smile from pulling at her face.

He shrugged his shoulders in feigned apology and ran his hand through hair that should have been silky blond. "I try, love. I do try."

Ginny rolled her eyes and let a brief smile escape. "Let's see your cards then. Or should I just take the money and spare you?" She watched as Draco slowly laid one card down onto the table and then another. His fingers were lengthening, and everyone could see that the effect of the Poly-Juice potion the foreigner had taken was wearing off. As he laid down his final card, everyone in the room knew that Draco Malfoy was back in England.

So shocked were the other players with the infamous wizard's appearance that it took everyone a moment before they glanced down at his cards. Lying on the wooden table were the two of Diamonds, the four of Diamonds, the eight of Diamonds, the nine of Diamonds and a picture of a shirtless wizard with ropes of jewels dangling from his neck – the Jack of Diamonds. Draco had gotten a flush. They all looked expectantly at Ginny, she would have to have a brilliant hand to beat that.

Ginny smiled sweetly at her one-time lover and spread her hand out face up. Four lovely, scantily clad ladies stared up at him. They sauntered and sashayed in their coloured frames, adjusting crowns and blowing kisses. Four of a kind. She had won.

Draco growled low in his throat. He had never liked losing, even small losses like this one irked him. No matter.

He pushed back from the table and stood. "It appears my game has ended." He said. "It has been a pleasure." He nodded briskly to everyone, and let his hungry gaze hover on Ginny. A silent question was asked and answered. She gathered her chips, said goodbye and met him at the door. He grabbed her wrist and before she knew it they had left the dingy pub and were in a very familiar room in Malfoy Manor.

He wrapped his arms around her slim waist before she had time to get her balance and dropped his soft lips onto hers for the first time in over two years. It enveloped her like nothing else could until she knew she must breathe or drown in him. She pushed back on his chest with her hands and they stared at each other, breath ragged with lust, pulses pounding with blood.

"You can't just come back like this. I could be married for all you know, Draco."

"You're not." He replied.

"But there could be someone el-" She admonished, trying to keep her head.

"There isn't. I know there isn't." He answered abruptly.

"I thought we decided to go our separate ways-" She said softly, knowing she would lose in this game of wills.

He dropped his head down and began to kiss the long line of her neck, following the delicate tracery of veins that led up to the sensitive spot behind her ear. "No Gin, I couldn't." He breathed in the scent of her fiery hair, reassuring himself that she was really there with him. "I tried, but it was never the same without you. I missed you, missed this." He traced her cheek with his fingers and looked at her expectantly; the man who vowed to answer to no one ever again was waiting for her judgement. Or blessing.

"You're really back?" She asked, her voice stronger than before. Was this what she truly wanted? Her hands itched to feel the sinewy arms and solid chest of the man in front of her but not if he was going to run away again. She wasn't just a convenient shag. Not with this man.

He nodded, and let his hands continue to explore the woman he knew now that he loved like no other. "I'm staying." He moved closer to her and started to undo the buttons on her shirt with painstaking slowness.

"France didn't agree with you?" She could feel her heart beating faster under his deft hands, and decided to let her own hands do what they desired, sliding up his chest and around his gorgeous square shoulders into his long blond hair.

Her shirt was on the floor in a moment and Draco was drinking in the smooth freckled skin of her stomach and chest. He caressed it greedily, mentally cursing himself for his past stupidity. How had he left this?

"Fuck France. It was hell for my complexion anyway." She cut him off by tugging his lips down onto hers and kissing him in a way she hadn't kissed any of the other anonymous wizards since he had left. It spoke of longing and promise, and a maturity that neither had had before. Draco lifted her easily, never breaking contact and lowered her onto his bed.

--

"I've never heard that word used in that way before." She teased, snuggling down into the soft duvet and sighing contentedly. She thought she knew the cards she had been dealt but last night turned everything on its head. Not only did she have one of the best hands in her life at the poker table but she had played with Malfoy and won even though he was the only man who knew all her tells. The look on his face when he had seen those four saucy witches staring up at him was priceless. She lay there in his big bed with a self-satisfied grin on her face, of course there had been the terrific sex too. That had also been an exceedingly happy event last night…and then again this morning.

A rumbling grunt was heard from the indolent young man stretched out beside her. He reached a sinewy arm across her freckled waist and tugged her closer.

"Quiet, witch, or else." He yawned into the pillow as he pulled himself into a more comfortable position tugging the duvet around his naked hips.

She moved her hand along his bare back absently, "Or else what?"

"Or else I may have to do and say those things again, dearest." He said sleepily, his eyes closed.

He smirked into the pillow letting his fingers roam blindly across her soft curves. No matter what happened next, he was exceedingly happy to be back in England.

The End.

**ORIGINAL REQUEST:**  
**What would you like to receive?  
The tone/mood of the fic:** I would like something with a little sadness/angst/grief in the past, but at the present time of the fic be happy or content.  
**An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: **"I've never heard that word used in that way before." And a plastic tiara or Mardi Gras like beads if possible  
**Preferred rating of the the fic you want:** Somewhere around PG-13, maybe a little over (Sorta Naughty or Definitely Naughty if you're on the FIA archives)  
**Canon or AU? **Either/Or  
**Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): **The past sadness/angst/grief cannot be Harry/Ginny related, no slash or inter-generational pairings


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